


Agent Delta

by SerenitysSwirl



Series: AIAU [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artificial Intelligence, Alternate Universe - Human, Epsilon is basically Church except he's a badass Freelancer, actual Church may eventually make an appearance we'll see, ai as freelancers, and even more of an asshole, freelancers as ai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:15:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7746268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenitysSwirl/pseuds/SerenitysSwirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delta stresses about getting his AI and Epsilon is super unhelpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agent Delta

**Author's Note:**

> I've had a few half-written ideas laying around for a while now, so I thought I'd go ahead and post this one. I won't ever have a big arcing story for this AU, instead having smaller stories within the universe. There have been big changes to this AU since I've posted Agent Theta, but I don't think this story contradicts anything. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Agent Delta meets his own eyes in the mirror. Normally, they looked like a pair of crushed emeralds, but now, underneath the harsh bathroom lighting, they appeared sickly. His father was Korean, his mother white. Delta’s eyes were small and curved, skin tanned, but not dark. His father’s eyes were brown and his mother’s green, giving him approximately a 50% chance of having brown eyes, 13% chance of having blue, and a 38% chance of having green. Granted, that was only if his dad carried the recessive gene for green eyes. Delta wondered how far he could trace back in his father’s family before finding someone with eyes other than brown.

Delta winces, cutting off his own mental tangent and breaking the eye contact with himself. He huffs, splashing water from the faucet onto his face, trying to get a grip. It was either late or early. He’d been standing there too long to tell the difference.

The  _ Mother of Invention _ hums peacefully beneath Delta’s feet as he exits the bathroom and slips on his glasses, the ship automatically shutting the lights off behind him before the door slides shut. The hallway stretches off to either side. To the left, and then a right, and then another left, was his room, empty and suffocating. To the right, and then another right, was the mess hall. Delta was already walking right as he counts down the seconds to his arrival. 25...24...23...22...Damn.

Getting an AI shouldn’t be much of a big deal. Epsilon got one just a few weeks ago, and he was excelling even more than he usually did. A handful headaches, a day or two in recovery, and he was perfectly fine. But Epsilon was a leader and kept a strong appearance for the rest of the Freelancers. Was he hiding any pain or problems or--?

2...1...0...The mess hall was empty, just as predicted.

“Greetings, Agent Delta,” F.I.L.S.S. says overhead as the lights turn on and he sits down at one of the tables. Delta wasn’t sure if the ship’s AI was supposed to talk to her occupants, but he didn’t mind the distraction. “What are you doing awake? Aren’t you receiving your AI in about four hours? It would not be good to go into the procedure on such little sleep.”

Delta runs a hand through his shaggy black hair. He could really stand to get it cut sometime. “I’m aware, F.I.L.S.S., thank you.”

“I see...Would you like for me to play some calming music? Agent Sigma has plenty of songs in the database that I can grant myself access to.”

Delta smirks. “No, that’s alright. My brain will tire itself out eventually.”

There’s a pause, and Delta slumps on the bench, head drooping to press against the table. The back of his neck tingles with a phantom pain. Only a little pinprick, and the process would be done.

“Hm…” F.I.L.S.S. muses. “Humans are...strange.” Delta doesn’t respond, silently agreeing.

Minutes pass, long enough for the side of Delta’s head against the table to grow numb. What if the AI was intrusive? Epsilon often argued with Washington; what if Delta’s was the same? Sure, Wash seemed to be friendly and competent enough, but to have one of him in your brain 24/7? Delta could hardly imagine. His stomach turns, anxious thoughts making him nauseous. Still, he stays frozen at his table in the mess hall, mind racing.

It could have been an hour before a voice is heard from the doorway.

“Pre-surgery jitters?”

Delta jerks, wobbling to a standing position when he recognises the voice. “Epsilon, I was just…” he sighs, looking up at the other soldier. “‘Jitters’ would be the most accurate way to describe it, yes.”

Epsilon doesn’t enter, instead scratching his chin and ruffling his short, black beard. “I won’t bullshit you, it’s weird at first. Well, it’ll always be weird. But it’s got its perks. Isn’t that right, Wash?”

Washington, in a gray and silver glow, materializes over Epsilon’s shoulder. “You could say that.”

“Psh, don’t be so modest. Little guy’s awesome. Could probably fire two guns at once if I wanted and lose zero accuracy.”

“Well, I mean,  _ probably _ \--”

“Oh, come on. We totally could.”

“I was agreeing with you!”

“Yeah, but you were being a pansy about it.”

“No, I--”

“What were you saying about the speed enhancement the other day? ‘I’ve never ran a suit’s program before, so we should start small and work up to its full potential’?”

“Stop using what I say against me! I can remember it just as well as you can without your stupid--”

“You’re a goddamn computer program! You don’t need to ‘work up’ to anything!”

“How do YOU know?”

Delta slips back onto the bench behind him, taking note of Epsilon’s twitching eye. He stifles a sigh. This was doing nothing to comfort him, so he instead watches one of the lights above him flicker, counting the beats between each. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, flicker. “I don’t  _ have _ to know! It’s, like, basic computer knowledge. You’re a program, for god's sake!” 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, flicker. “I’m not a program, I’m only a fragment! I have limits!” 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, flicker. “As soon as we get out on a mission you’ll be fine, stop being such a bitch.” 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, flicker. “You’re the one who starts half of these arguments in the first place!” 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, flicker. “Oh really? What about yesterday at lunch? I recall you saying--” 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, flicker. “Stop doing that!” Delta blinks, missing a flicker in the second his eyes are closed.

Delta was considering just leaving to try his luck elsewhere when Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” begins to blare over the ship’s mess hall speakers. He thought it was more haunting than calming, but it got the two in front of him to stop yelling, so it was a godsend.

“Thank you, F.I.L.S.S.” he says, eyes sinking shut.

“It is no problem, Agent Delta.”

“WHAT THE?” Epsilon starts, talking loudly over the music. “Oh...shit, I’m sorry, D.”

Delta glances at him, exhausted. Running on no sleep was taking its toll. “It’s okay, Epsilon. You were only trying to make me feel better for my impending surgery. Do not be too offended when I say you’ve failed.”

Epsilon grins apologetically, holding out his hand. Delta takes it, rising to his feet on shaky legs. “Hey, F.I.L.S.S.,” Epsilon calls to the room, “turn this shit off, would you?”

“Are you sure, Agent Epsilon?” the AI asks. “You have not proven to be very helpful so far.”

Wash, still hovering nearby, mutters, “could say that again,” before blinking out of existence.

“Asshole,” Epsilon says. “Yeah, I’m just going to take D back to his room.”

“Well...” F.I.L.S.S. says, turning the music off. A phantom buzz echos through the room and clogs Delta’s ears. “I think that would be alright. Sleep well, Agent Delta.” He nods silently, allowing Epsilon to usher him into the hallway.

They turn right, then left. 25...24...23...22………..2...1...0…

“It’s really not that bad,” Epsilon murmurs as they pass the door to the bathroom. “I’m just difficult to work with. And Wash is...Wash.”

Delta hums, feet dragging against the ground. His brain felt fried and heavy. “Has your performance in battle improved at all?”

Epsilon shrugs and gives a small nod as they take a right. “Yeah, I’d say so. I don’t have to think so much about aiming or projectiles. Everything’s a lot quicker. As much as I give Wash shit for it...he’s done a pretty good job so far.”

It’s not like Delta wasn’t a good soldier, but he had to admit, he could use a little boost. To have an AI that could sort through all his thoughts in battle would be useful. Just to have something capable of keeping up with him, taking some of the pressure off of himself...they all had their reasons for wanting an AI. Omega had thrown a fit when he found out both Delta and Gamma were scheduled for implantation well before him. He could tell that Eta cared too, but she expressed her frustration in silent brooding instead. It was a big deal and he should feel honored. It was a big deal, and that’s why he couldn’t help overthinking.

They take a left and end up at Delta’s room. Epsilon attempts another reassuring speech, but Delta waves him away. Decent leader tactics, poor people skills. Delta goes to sleep and tosses and turns the entire night until his exhaustion washes him away.


End file.
